Mike Exists
by some-77-kid
Summary: So too many people think that Mike is a terrible person. Not so. Just hurt sad and jealous of a god like creature. You'd be bitter too right?


Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, or the series. Or really anything of Stephenie Meyer written produced or… The Host for that matter, though it doesn't really apply to this. But yeah…

Story: Mikes first realization that he really likes Bella, more than anything. Ta-da. Too many people say that he is vile and evil and probably beats his girlfriends. This shows nice Mike. There aren't many people that are _that_ inherently evil in nature. So there.

**Mike Exists**

And she sat there. Like a siren in the daylight, his muse, his Phoenix. She glowed in the sun, he realized. Luckily she had been preoccupied with her notebook to not see him staring for so long. But even preoccupied she seemed to glimmer. Shaking his head he remembered the plan, seem casual, talk to her slowly, don't take no. Breathing heavy laden, his clothes seemed to stick all too closely to his skin. He said her name twice under his breath, just to make sure he had it all right. And quickly reviewing his policy, he shouted, "Bella!"

His voice rang clearly throughout the courtyard. And even in just tilting her head, in his entire movie collection, no girl moved quite like her. Though she often tripped, it teemed with grace as she fell. It was like floating really. She never fell.

"Hey, Mike!" She called. Her smile blinded him, for a moment, as it seemed to wink in the morning. No actress in any of his romance collection could compare. The sun had finally tumbled over the hills, backlighting her god-like hair, features more exotic, eyes smoldering. Mike wavered momentarily. She didn't deserve him. He knew. But he had taken a certain angle on the subject that seemed to justify his near irrational actions. He needed her; it no longer was a want. His homework left undone. His mind left to wander. His every waking moment seemed consumed with her very being. And all the while he was grinning, grinning for finally he found his story. His adventure. His romance.

Sitting next to her she smiled happily. He knew because the smile crinkled her eyes. He knew because the sun sucks the happy right out to your skin. He knew that he could make her happy. 

"I never noticed before – your hair has red in it," Although that was a lie, he had always noticed. It seemed appropriate to say to her though. Because that is what one does in romance movies, they notice the others small nuances, to show they cared.

"Only in the sun." His Phoenix, who became anew in the sun as she intensified its glow. The slight breeze caught her hair, taunting his desire. To stifle the heart for now, he tucked it for what seemed to be safekeeping behind her ear. That exposed her eyes. His siren, with eyes that beckoned like the trees; an invitation to discover forever. But quickly they lost their glint. And he stammered about his mind for something to keep casual.

"Great day, isn't it?" As it was always with her.

"My kind of day." His heart chuckled at the understatement, but his mind strove to keep focused.

"What did you do yesterday?" Hoping this was a casual enough question; he noticed her slight aversion.

"I mostly worked on my essay." Reality suddenly crashed as he remembered what his mother said about bad grades reaping a lack of dates, and he found his hand quickly impacting his forehead.

"Oh yeah – that's due Thursday right?" 

"Um, Wednesday, I think." How she remembered was beyond him. Though he guessed she didn't spend every waking minute thinking of someone else.

"Wednesday?" It was too close a date to put it off again, "That's not good… What are you writing yours on?" His muse, inspiring him to write again.

"Whether Shakespeare's treatment of the female characters is misogynistic." He stared at her, mouth agape, and proved to him that she was far too smart for mortals. 

"I guess I'll have to get to work on that tonight," and in this new light he offered a small recession. He knew there was no beating around the bush any longer, and gave up being facetious, "I was going to ask if you wanted to go out." And even though he looked at the ground, he knew instantly her expression and that he regretted it.

"Oh."

Desperation took over.

"Well, we could go to dinner or something," he hoped, "And I could work on it later." Flashing a quick and rushed smile he prayed in his heart for a yes.

"Mike…" Her angelic voice lingering slowly on his name, he felt his heart leap into his throat, "I don't think that would be the best idea." And as quickly as it jumped, it plummeted into the pit of his stomach, releasing his vocal chords.

"Why?" His mind now racing through thoughts of other men, wondering as to whom she would have preferred. Quickly stopping on the only other god in this city. Edward Cullen. The name made him nauseous as soon as he thought it. Though it only seemed fitting that a god should like a god. And yet she continued.

"I think… and if you ever repeat what I'm saying right now I will cheerfully beat you to death," the image flashed through his mind of Edward beating him repeatedly for mentioning their secret and forbidden love, for surely it was against some cosmic law that two people so beautiful should be allowed together, "but I think it would hurt Jessica's feelings."

"Jessica?" He couldn't have heard right. _Jessica_? Jessica Stanley who had lived here, since the dawn of time? Who had no more aspiration than to be a housewife? Surely he had mistaken the name.

He barely heard her when she said her goodbye. But he saw. He saw the sirens eyes leave the forest guarded from his gaze. He saw her Phoenix hair beating out from behind catching the suns rays. Her last act of inspiration for him was to follow. To continue and live life as was expected from the mortal realm. As punishment for loving a goddess.

**A/N: **I think I am a bit of a romantic. Don't you? It's a one-shot for now. Shall I expound? Or shall I expunge? A review maybe? Or two is always welcome…. Or something like that silly. :)


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